Four Letter Word
by Bakura From School
Summary: Happy Valentine's Day!  Love is in the air, and it smells inspiring. A series of shorts prompted by the holiday of L'amour itself.  France not included.  Inside pairings: USUK, GerIta, GiriPan.


_**Hey Everyone. First, thanks for clicking on this story. I hope you find some enjoyment out of it. **_

_**Warnings: OOC is imminent. it's what I do best, although I try. Q: "Is this Historical?" A: Is there a flying pig outside my window? I'd say there are some cultural hints at best. That and a whole lotta (innocent) sterotyping. ...it's Hetalia.**_

_**Disclaimer: Hetalia and all it's wonders belongs to beloved Hidekaz Himaruya. **_

_**Read on. Happy Valentine's Day. **_

* * *

><p><strong>Heart<strong>: _USUK_

Arthur grumbled one more time at the contents of Alfred's fridge: leftover lasagna, leftover meatloaf, leftover mashed potatoes, leftover Panda Express (still in the paper boxes), Pizza Hut (still in the paper box), packaged Sushi, leftover McDonald's French fries, a dressed Chicken Caesar Salad, hotdogs, cookie dough… He sigh again and let the fridge door swing shut just as he heard the shower turn off down the hall, and finally settled for a handful of cherry juju hearts that were set out on the counter. Hopefully, he'd talk that git into going shopping later. Either that or he'd get a tooth ache and get to leave sooner than planned.

_XOXOXOXOXOXOXO_

**Blend: **_USUK_

Alfred looked over to where Arthur was fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

"You need some help with that?" The American took the initiative to kneel down in front of the Brit and promptly push his hand away.

"Nice Boxers" Alfred chuckled when he caught sight of the red, white, and blue pattern of the Union Jack as he slid the zipper up Arthur's crotch.

"Alfred, you Bloody Twit! I never ever asked for help!" The Englishman scolded frantically, his face heating up in a deep red blush. The American just giggled as he was hit over the head with the neon green cast that encircled Arthur's right arm and wrist, and finished buttoning the front of the khaki Dockers.

**: _XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO : _**

**Roses: **_GerIta_

"_~Ve Doitsu, Are you spending Saint Valentine's Day with your sweetheart?" _

"_Um," Germany's cheeks filled with color and shook his head gently, "No."_

"_Okay, then come to my house for dinner." _

And that was why Ludwig was standing there in black suit and green tie, a bouquet of yellow and deep red roses firmly clenched in one hand. The door bell was yet to be pressed by a hovering finger.

_**:XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO :**_

**Sweethearts: **_AU Gakuen/Highschool Hetalia. UK/? , GiriPan, GerIta _

Arthur's half lidded eyes became full as the moon when he opened his bedroom door that morning. A loud pop sounded and fifty, maybe hundreds of papers fluttered down around him. The rubber remains of a large red balloon hung attached to the doorframe with a piece of tape, and upon further inspection, the Brit noticed that the confetti was covered in alphabet letters: "a", "de", "ow", "f", "ut", "!", almost like a ransom letter. How…no, why?

Anyway, he had to pee.

:: _xxx :: _

Arthur knitted his eyebrows at the thought of the mess made in his bedroom. It wasn't even a special day, so why celebrate with cheap confetti?

The uncomforting hiss of his newly installed bathroom faucet scratched through his ears as he reached for the liquid soap in the—

"Oh, Bloody hell!"

The Britain stared in shock at the water running bright red into his sink basin and frantically checked his lightly trembling hands for any cuts. He found nothing…except for an envelope on the counter titled: "Arthur". He opened it, leaving pink water stains to warp the clean white paper.

"_My heart will bleed red until you say "yes" to go to the Sweethearts Dance (with me)._

_Ooh-ee! I'm starving. I'll meet you down in the kitchen, okay?" _

Arthur gripped the invitation hard and threw it to the ground, slapping the water faucet off; it was starting to run clear.

_::XXXXXXX::_

Tromping down the carpeted stairs into the kitchen, he prepared himself for the worst possible scenario. A message written in spilled flour, maybe? Or perhaps a tinfoil bomb in the microwave? Those two disastrous options Arthur now counted as would-have-been- blessing as compared to the butcher paper mess posted on his patio door: black marker, candy bars, and all...

"Hey _Big Hunk_,

_Take 5 _to breath, would ya! I would have _Snickers Mounds_ at your reaction when you woke up. Don't worry, there is a _Riesen_ for all of this _Whatchamacallit_. If you go to the_ Sweetarts _dance with me, you'll see that I don't want to be a _Zero_, but your _Lifesavers_. I'm not in this to _Sk_or any, but you _Orbit_ my planet. I would travel the _Milky Way _with you, and we'd be together forever. You must think I'm from _Mars_ by now, but I assure you, I'm not that much of a _Nerds_. Go to the front porch for another clue.

Love,

Your Secret _Sweetart_. "

…Classy.

_::OOOOOOO::_

Now he was pissed. On the front porch tied to the outside door handle, a red piece of string was threaded, and as far as he could see, it seemed to lead somewhere around the neighborhood.

Arthur stomped up his stairs to the bedroom to get dressed. With a huff, upon opening the closet door, he discovered, hanging in front of his face, was a key—obscurely shaped, almost like the key to a Grandfather clock—tied to a piece of white curling ribbon, attached to the ceiling by yet another piece of tape. The Britain gently took the piece of metal in his hand. "You'll need this" was written with a fine Sharpie on the ribbon. He ripped the key down, and shoved it into the pocket of a pair of jeans he chose to wear, and pulling on a blue "The Beatles" T-shirt, he went to the front door and detached the string from the knob, raveling it up as he followed it.

_::XXXXXXXXXXXX::_

Needless to say, Arthur gave up collecting the string as he soon found out that it went though tree branches, under cars, around telephone poles and mail boxes, and through the backyard bushes of the neighbor; although he concluded they must have known about this plan since they just smiled and didn't call the police on him for trespassing.

At the end of the adjacent cul-de-sac, the taught string seemed to run straight to a bright white home. Arthur walked down the road to where the string ran right through a tomato garden. The rest of the spool sat in the corner of the harvest plot. Should he ask them? "Karpusi" the mailbox read.

"Heracles?" The blond ducked his head as he snuck across the grass and knelt down below the window. He peeked in and saw couches; a black haired boy was jumping in front of the television which was broadcasting frantically scrolling arrows. It looked like Kiku. 'FAILED' flashed on the screen and the Japanese boy's head tilted back with laughter as he turned to plop onto the brown leather sofa and wiped his brow with the heel of his hand. It _was_ Kiku. The owner of the house came back into the room then with a plate piled high with pieces of green and red food. A salad maybe. Heracles always had those at school. He said a mumbled something to the resting teen who nodded and took the fork that was offered him as the Greek sat down beside him. He leaned over to press his lips to Kiku's temple.

The British boy let out a sound of exclamation and ducked below the pane quickly. He crawled toward the red thread as he heard faint muffled laughter.

A large white X was placed on the ground where the thread stopped. A garden shovel stuck into the ground next to it, "KARPUSI H." littered the orange handle. Arthur removed the paper X and thread and plunged the shovel into the soft soil. It hit the treasure with a hollow thud and he gently pushed away enough dirt to pull up a small box.

It looked just like an old pirate chest, authentic lock and all. Arthur remembered the key in his pocket and fished it out. He had to use quite a bit of force, but eventually got the key to turn in the old rusty lock, bits of dust crumbled away as he opened the lid.

Inside sat a _Dasani_ water bottle and another key-a plain one- on top of a piece of type paper spoiled with a thick bright red arrow, pointing east, down the street. Arthur frowned when he saw another similar sign thirty feet away, red arrow and all. He gathered the chest into his arms and made his way down to where the other arrow was placed and plucked it off the innocent fence. Looking around the corner, he counted five, six… nine more arrows had been stuck on light poles, tree branches, car doors, home windows. Whoever was bloody responsible for this should be arrested for civil disobedience.

_::XXXoXXXXXX::_

With the thirteenth arrow collected, Arthur was nearly on the opposite side of the neighborhood when a familiar house came into view. A red arrow was on the mailbox, and a blond was in the driveway leaning over a skateboard with a can of spray paint.

"Hey, Alfred", The English man greeted and the younger blond turned toward the voice and lifted his hand in an awkward, shy wave, his fingers were stained with the paint.

"Arthur, good morning. Nice weather today, eh?"

"Oh. Um," He noticed this was indeed not the loud mouthed blond, but his quiet brother. He took notice that the large stuffed bear was dressed in a rain poncho, perhaps as to not get stained with the red paint. "Matthew! Hi there. Is Alfred around?"

Matthew shook his head, "Still asleep. You know him and Saturday mornings."

"_It's Nearly Noon!" _Arthur wanted to shout, but instead motioned to the same red arrow that was posted on the boy's house window. "Do you know anything about that?"

Matthew shook his head, and cocked his head across the street. "It was here when I woke up, but I left it. There seems to be a lot of them." His eyes shifted down to the Brit's arms that were plump full, carrying the bottle of water, and the small chest that was now the holder for the pointing papers.

"They're yours?" `

Large eyebrows rose and fell. "Apparently, but I have no idea." He stared blankly around the yard before shrugging and continuing down the street.

"Good Luck, Arthur!"

"Oh!" He turned back around to face the blond, "You have a good day, lad!"

Matthew sighed and covered his nose with a handkerchief, continuing to spray paint the maple leaf stencil onto his board.

_::xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx::_

Arthur followed more arrows, collecting the ones he could reach before coming to a STOP sign where an arrow was taped with an envelope. Annoyed he set the box down and opened the letter, _"Almost there! "_ was written in sloppy block letters. Shoving the envelope into the box, he picked it back up and came face to face with another blond man; One of his classmates, Ludwig. In one hand, he held a red rose, and in the other dozens of red, pink, and white helium balloons were being kept down by a large wicker basket full of…pasta? His face was stained with a pink blush.

"Hello, Ludwig." Ludwig stared at the box in his arms. A brief look of realization flashed.

"Guten Tag, Arthur." The German-born teen continued down the street, blush becoming even redder.

_::ooooooooooooooo::_

Arthur continued on, collecting more papers; becoming more tired. The arrows led him back to his own street. They lined the doors of each neighboring house—they weren't there before. Or were they? He followed them down…and to his own mailbox, to his own front door! Was this all just a joke? Was it a wild goose chase? _Well…_ He plucked the paper from his door and turned the handle…it was locked.

"Did I…?" he started to ask himself, but with a shake of his head, checked his pockets for the key that he inevitably had forgotten to grab on his way out.

Just great…

Arthur sat on the concrete steps, placing that box beside him; that retched box with absolutely no clues as to who had sent it. He looked through it again, moved the papers out of the way to stare at the keys that lay underneath. Come to think of it, what _was_ the other key? It was plain, so it could have been for anything really. It looked like a key to a front door…it couldn't be!

He pushed himself off the steps with that key in hand and hurried to his front door, and pushed the key into the hole. Where it fit, turned, and opened the door. _It's my bloody house key_ . Once Arthur got inside, he peered around his entryway; it was just how he left it.

Making his way upstairs he heard rustling in the kitchen and turned around to investigate. Peeking through the doorway he saw

"Alfred?"

"Oh, hey Arthur!" Was that loud American _really_ inside his kitchen, no, his _house_ for that matter…?

"I told you I was hungry." Indeed it did seem that way. The oak table was covered with what seemed like a smorgasbord of junk food. From the wrappers it seemed mostly McDonald's. Also set out was Arthur's blue ceramic tea pot.

…_This is too much,_ "I'm going back to sleep." The Brit about-faced to head up to his bedroom, leaving the blond in his kitchen blinking, and full of anticipation.

"Wait, so does this mean yes? Artie? Arthur, answer me!"

Underneath the sheets, Arthur closed his eyes to dream of a way to reply "Yes" to Alfred; maybe he'd get back at him too.

_:xxxxoooxxxxooooxxxxooooxxxx:_

_**Happy Valentine's Day 2012**_

_**Thankyou everyone for reading. I hope your day was as wonderful as mine; whether or not you have a Valentine, just know that you are loved for just being you. **_


End file.
